


Pulled Your Number

by Leticheecopae



Series: Painful Needs [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Gen, Gore, Insanity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:45:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leticheecopae/pseuds/Leticheecopae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Messiahs have a few jobs for you to do, and if you don't want your pan splitting in half, you'll do them right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulled Your Number

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the 'Painful Needs' series when I first thought about going through and doing a Gamzee side piece. Instead, all that ever came out was this. I did really like this one though, so I thought I would share it.

There is no mother fuckin difference in the way the worlds split inside your think pan. None whatsoever, as the messiahs clamor for your attention and all you can do is pant. There are too many colors in one room, too many eyes and not enough life. You should be hearing breathing, laughing, a fucking heartbeat, but all that’s up in this room is silence and death. One giant corpse party. You wish you could have invited your red sister, she would have understood.

_SHE’S LOWER THAN YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKING WASTE OF FLESH_

_she wouldn’t understand all the miracles you performed on all these pan dead blips._

You whimper with your hands over your ears. Your miracle brother is smiling across the room from you, but that isn’t right? His horns aren’t supposed to look like that, shouldn’t be all down round his hips.

_NONE OF THEM WOULD BE WORTH IT_

_you have done well with our will little brother._

_BUT WE’RE NOT MOTHERFUCKING DONE YET BRO_

Your head is breaking in two. There is too much rage and not all of it is yours. Not all of it is up in your bloodpusher, its pouring in through the pores of the universe and its like the stardust is getting under your skin. Making you itch and want to tear it all out, but this is what you wanted, right? You wanted all these miracles up in you, and with the sopor gone, the motherfucking brain rot, that’s what you’ve got. Your miracles. Your Messiahs. Then why does it motherfucking _hurt_?

_so much going on all up in this universe_

_SO MUCH TO SLAUGHTER TO BRING FORTH THE UNDERSTANDING OF THE AGES FOR ALL THOSE WHOSE THINK PANS CAN’T SEE IT FOR THEMSELVES_

_its time for you to get your subjuggulation on little brother._

You don’t realize where the fresh blue comes from till you’re staring at her body, at the arm you’re crushing for the hole it caused in your Tavbro. Stupid fucking WHORE didn’t know WHAT YOU WERE CAPABLE OF. always laughing AT YOUR MIRACLE BROTHER. your motherfucking MIRACLE and ALL THE THINGS HE COULD DO when she couldn’t even SAVE HERSELF.

 _TIME TO MOTHERFUCKING WAKE UP AND SHOW THEM HOW THE WORLDS ARE GOING TO MOTHERFUCKING ALIGN AND OPEN FOR THE DAWNING OF OUR MOTHERFUCKING MIRACLES_

_because you’re the only one who can all up and hear the singing of our rage_

_AND ITS ABOUT MOTHERFUCKING TIME THAT THE REST HEARD US TOO_

The club hits the floor hard as you go to your knees. Where did you put her head? Where are all the motherfucking pieces? You need all the motherfucking pieces. How did her arm get so far away?

_just follow the miracle stardust and you’ll find what we all need you to find._

_FOLLOW IT AND LET US FINALLY GET ALL UP AND IN OUR PARADISE_

_follow it and break us down till all we can do is bleed out the old and get filled all up with the new_

_cArNiVaLs JuSt StArTiNg BrOtHeR_

You’re face runs with the paint, but its not white anymore. No, no more white like a MOTHERFUCKING CAPRICE. no more white. time to SHOW THE MOTHERFUCKING UNIVERSE that its time to let the MESSIAH'S REIGN. You pick up a head, one eye missing, and toss it into the only container. You throw in the body next, whistling around the blood in your mouth, and doesn’t it fucking taste sweet. so MOTHERFUCKING sweet.

Your miracle brother goes in last, legs tucked in nice and neat, no need for him to be all up and uncomfortable. Then comes the bit with the hole that you tried to fill, but there was no slime and you couldn’t bleed enough to fill it. Probably wasn’t the smartest idea, letting out all that fucking purple, but it looked so good mixed with that brown. that FILTHY FUCKING BROWN of a low blood who DESERVED TO BE CULLED so that he could COME BACK and be STRONGER. It was the only thing Vriska ever did right, doing that for you, because you don’t think your blood pusher could have stood it when it came his time.

You kiss him once, tasting how cold and bitter the sweet was getting, and tuck him in on top. Looking around the room you see their messages, your messiahs, and shut the door to the refrigeration container. It slides into the miracle colors of your sylladex.

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and the mirthful messiahs have pulled your motherfucking number.


End file.
